


Catching ZZZ's

by orphan_account



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Dark Crack, Happy Murder Family, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mattress Shops, Satire, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:59:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Minseok expected working at a mattress shop would have him helping people get properly rested, not putting them to sleep forever.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27





	Catching ZZZ's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Scor_pio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scor_pio/gifts).



> [Context!](https://twitter.com/Ayf_11/status/1277825168031662080)  
>    
> I think I might go to hell for writing this, but I secretly think it's a good concept even if it took me two weeks to churn out this mess. 
> 
> I'm so sorry and I'll just drop this here for you and leave. Like a hot pocket indeed.

The sharp smells of fabric off-gassing, plastic shrouded display beds, halogen lights that whirred like flies implanted tightly into ceiling grids. Company jingles bouncing out of TVs thicker than a mini fridge bolted to walls stained grey and brown, resonant empty echoes all across a store without a soul in sight.

It was a universal truth that the party was always in the back. Baekhyun and Jongdae’s co-owned Mattress Mattress was not an exception.

There was no need for there to be that many of a single establishment in one city. Minseok sometimes wondered how people didn’t pick up on something as obvious as that. Even walking to his job, the route he was compelled to take had him pass ten other sleep-related storefronts; frankly ridiculous, overly excessive, but then again, it wasn’t like he had ever cared himself before.

It had been months since he’d picked up the catalogue off the dusty, lowest shelf in the Career center, the glossy paper and brazen red lettering of the advert slot practically calling out his name to assume the job of a desperately needed ‘sleep consultant’. Two meaningless words strung together.

Requirements as listed: to be strong, presumably to lift the mattress boxes; amicably pleasant, to be working with customers all day; tidiness, since nobody liked a messy shop…they had seemed reasonable.

Really, they just needed someone to haul around bodies.

Minseok could never forget his saunter into the storage room that one day, his eyes turning round as dollar coins in the back of the shop the first time he’d seen his bosses stuffing old ladies into emptied out beds. The cotton filling from the gutted bed piled up on one side, blood spatter on Baekhyun’s white shirt, the knife slipping out of Jongdae’s red-slickened hands to clatter to the ground, both of them looking oddly guilty like children that had been caught sneaking extra cookies.

He’d always known they were together. The grunting that came at odd hours out of the employee lounge had to have been something dubious; but Minseok hadn’t ever suspected this was the true extent of it.

“For why would there be a hundred Mattress Mattresses in a forty mile radius?” Baekhyun had said to him, once he had stopped shaking, stopped staring at Jongdae in the back, still fumbling to push a corpse that wouldn't cooperate between bedsprings and layers of exuded memory foam.

“Mafia fronts?” Minseok had replied.

“Almost. How do you think we make money?”

The more Minseok thought about it, the more it seemed true. He’d only ever sold two beds in four months, yet there were countless mattresses leaving the store at odd times of the day, weird stains that would show up on the scuffed tile which he’d almost always assumed were the shadows of rusted bedsprings and marking tape.

When Jongdae had to slice off the old woman’s head to finally fit her frame into the snug confines of the bed, Baekhyun didn’t make any comment, even when Minseok veered off the edge of his chair and threw up until he couldn’t breathe.

He’d thought to call the police when he went home that night. He didn’t even when his thumb was on the keypad, the screen already primed to do so.

The next day, a man came into the store. Minseok didn’t make a single move when Baekhyun marched out of the back, pulling a chloroform rag over the poor soul’s face, and then catching him as he fell to the floor, lest his body make a thud no one was around to hear anyways.

“Are you coming with us, Minseok?” he’d asked, the lightness of his voice off-putting.

His head was nodding, even if his brain hadn’t allowed it.

Jongdae taught him which vein to cut. How to pull the ideal amount of filling out of a bed before it was optimal to shove something else in. Which position a cadaver would best be placed to eliminate the telling bumps, shapes, and suspicious elbows jutting out of the usually taut upper layer.

Minseok never asked what they did with the bodies. Perhaps meat locker? Immolation? Jongdae said they were taken away by trucks, ending up in a pile to be burnt. Whenever he smelled a barbeque in the near area, his skin always itched.

When he went back home for Thanksgiving that year, he found himself a lot better at deboning and stuffing. Even his relatives asked where this newfound culinary prowess had come from, and Minseok had laughed until his sides hurt.

There was a particular thrill to it though. Depraved, and vastly human all the same. The people they killed off were all enemies; pissed off the organization once in their lives so the higher ups wanted them gone, even if it meant running their little murder exploits out of a vapid community business.

Sometimes they’d even get a little excitable. Wearing less clothes meant less blood to scrub out of them. It was fucking sick.

Vile.

Jongdae severing limbs in the back and then leaning down to swipe his fingers through accumulated pools of blood, smearing it over Minseok’s cheeks. Baekhyun kissing him, tongue swiping into his mouth, hands running over skin, over thighs, shoulders, caressing places where they shouldn’t be.

The heady scent of carnage in the air.

Running around the store stark-naked, fingerprints, footprints flecking red on every surface imaginable.

Minseok found himself doing that a lot. He found himself on the mattress too in some cases. Three people on top. One former person inside.

All three of them groaning as they fucked. Jongdae moaning into one of the display pillows, Minseok’s legs pulsating, Baekhyun’s chest undulating up and down like a wave.

The world becoming white hot, the embroidery of the spend-sticky mattress leaving imprints on abused skin.

Bodies bouncing. The bed shaking so, so much. Baekhyun’s smooth voice asking if the person inside would be thoroughly mashed into a pulp once they were done fooling around, and Jongdae laughing into Minseok’s mouth as they kissed slowly.

They were efficient with it. Sometimes they’d ‘sell’ eight mattresses a day, and even as the hit list dwindled, the animalistic itching never did. They turned to customers next for satiation.

Minseok stopped feeling bad a long time ago, and it had been literal months since anyone had stepped into Mattress Mattress.

This gave ample time to sharpen knives.

It was a young woman on the other side of the door when it flicked open for the first time since January; a smiley girl donning a sundress and sunglasses, who couldn’t have been more than a hair into her thirties. She wanted a memory foam-topped queen mattress, cooling gel would’ve been nice too.

Damn. They had unstuffed the best model just this morning.

It didn’t matter though. Technically, the woman would be getting familiar with one soon. She just wouldn’t be alive.

Baekhyun came out from where he usually languished, filling out stock paperwork and ordering new beds. Jongdae did too. They were a package deal.

All three of them swarmed the girl as they led her to a Sealy model, and she seemed like she liked the attention, running her hand over quilted fabric as she leered over the proposed product, her lips rubbing together in thought.

“Are you sure it’s that soft?” she said, when Minseok rattled off his sales pitch with a charismatic wink. “I mean, I’m getting old, might as well not add to my back problems, you know? My last mattress, it was a brick, I swear. These things catch up to you one day, right?”

Jongdae nodded intently. “Ma’am,” he said with the utmost sincerity, “I assure you you’ll have the best sleep of your life if you purchase one from our store. I promise, it’ll be like no other.”

Minseok could smell blood already.

The woman’s eyes flitted between all three men, and she gave a queasy smile. “...You promise I’ll have a good sleep?”

They all snickered.

Baekhyun winked at her. “Well, it’s a sleep so good, it might as well be eternal."

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely hope all mattress shops do not fiscally operate by killing people, but they're probably all fronts for doing exactly that.


End file.
